AN:

See you at the bottom.


Six weeks earlier…


Hermione POV:

"And you? Are you coming or are you staying?" Ron asks.

She is being torn in half. And she is so mad at him for making her choose.

I promised Harry I wouldn't leave him. And this mission to find the Horcruxes is so much bigger than us. There are so many things- so many people at stake here.

Tears well up in her eyes because she knows what her answer is.

She looks behind her to Harry then back to Ron and shakes her head. She can't say it.

"Right. I get it. I saw you two the other night," He sneers.

"Ron, you don't understand. Please, just think about this." She pleads.

He shakes his head and, with one last glance at the both of them, leaves. She follows.

"Ron. Where are you going? Ron!"

She's not fast enough.

He Disapparates.

He's gone.

. . .

When she goes back into the tent she picks up the locket from off the ground where Ron had thrown it and puts it around her neck.

She finds Harry sitting on his cot and stands in front of him, crossing her arms.

"What?" he snarks.

"I know he was out of line but so were you."

"Oh, please. He was asking for a fight. Had been for weeks. I wasn't going to keep putting up with his whining."

"Harry, that is no excuse! I can't believe either of you, you're acting like children!"

And with that Hermione turns on her heel and marches out of the tent. She kicks the rocks at her feet, muttering to herself as she goes.

"Ugh! As if we didn't have enough to worry about. Just when we have to find at least three more Horcruxes and the sword to destroy them all, Ron thinks now is a good time to disappear. And Harry. Harry just pushes him away like he doesn't even care!"

She stays outside despite the chill of the wind biting at her skin. Her anger doesn't worsen but it doesn't diminish either.

Instead it goes to the back burner, waiting for the right time to boil over.

. . . . .

The next few days are tense between Harry and Hermione. They only speak when necessary and they never mention Ron's name.

Two days after Ron left, Harry convinces Hermione that they shouldn't linger. Hermione, reluctantly, agrees and they start packing.

Over the next couple weeks they travel by Apparition, staying no where longer than three days, sometimes less.

Hermione starts making a list of places they could go looking for the sword and people that might be able to help them.

The list is short,

. . . . .

"Just say it! You blame me for Ron leaving. I'm the reason we're here in the first place. I told you this wouldn't be easy and I was happy to do it alone!"

"Oh, don't take so much credit. You didn't force me or Ron to come with you but we did it anyway. The least you could do is not be prat about it and show some bloody gratitude!"

This is their third fight this week and it's going just about as well as the first two did.

Harry scoffs, "I'm supposed to be grateful that, once again, you put yourself in danger because of me?"

"Not everything is about you!" she shouts.

He looks as though he's been slapped.

She tries to backtrack, "Harry, I- I'm sorry-"

"No," he stops her, "You're right. It's okay." He turns away from her. "You can go, Hermione.

"Harry-"

"It's fine, Hermione, just admit it; this is the last place you want to be. I don't blame you."

He sits on his cot and, with his elbows on his knees, rubs his face under his glasses.

She stands there, silent, for a few moments. He looks up at her with pleading eyes. And because she knows him so well, she knows that he expects her to leave but doesn't really want her to.

He speaks quietly, "I don't try to make everything about myself." He takes on a faraway look. "I grew up with a family that blamed me for everything that went wrong. As a child, I believed them. Then, I started school at Hogwarts. Although it was a thousand times better than the Dursley's, something bad happened every year and I always felt like it was my fault.

The Philosopher's Stone ended up in my pocket. In second year, I spoke Parseltongue which made everyone think I was the Heir of Slytherin. Before we knew the truth about him, we thought Sirius was after me. Cedric died because You-Know-Who needed my blood to return. One thing after another. It was easy to believe it was all my fault. And it was no secret that plenty of other people blamed me as well."

Tears slip from Hermione's eyes as understanding washes over her.

"I guess I just got used to taking the heat," he finishes in a soft voice.

She takes small, tentative steps and kneels in front of him. Taking his hands in hers, she squeezes them tightly.

"I know what day it is, Harry. And I am so sorry," she sniffles. "But it is not your fault that all of this happened."

He doesn't raise his voice but keeps it firm. "Yes, it is, Hermione. This all started sixteen years ago."

"Your parents death is not your fault. Harry, look at me," he does, "It's not your fault. It's not your fault. None of this is your fault. I will say it a thousand times if that's what it takes for you to believe me."

"I'll never get to meet them. Not really," he says sadly. "And I know almost nothing about them. This," he reaches down to his bag and pulls out a book- no a photo album and starts flipping through the pages with the moving pictures, "shows me what they look like. It shows me that they loved me and that they loved each other. But I don't know much else."

Hermione moves to sit next to him on the bed and observe the pictures of the small Potter family from sixteen years ago. They looked so happy.

It's a bit strange to see Harry without his scar.

He continues, "I know I look like my dad, and that he was a bit of a trouble-maker in school with Sirius. I know I have my mother's eyes, and that she was smart and kind. But I don't know who they were. Does that make sense? Would all of this still be happening if they were alive?"

She isn't sure if he expected answers or if he was just thinking out loud. So she just murmurs, "I don't know. But I do know that they would be so proud of you."

They lean against one another and continue to look at the smiling faces of James and Lily Potter.


Harry POV:

November brought cold weather, less traveling, and still no answers.

Which frustrated them to no end.

But on the bright side, which they sometimes struggled to find, it also brought more tea, less fighting, and more rest.

Harry and Hermione's mood swings seemed to take turns having good and bad days where one would comfort and reassure the other.

Every so often they'd both have a good day, and those were the best, when they would be able to laugh and forget about their worries for a while.

Then there were days when the locket took a toll on them both and nothing could make them even smile.

But through the good and bad they promised to be each other's life line; to pull the other back from the edge before they fell too deep.

. . . .

"Ugh!" Hermione slams her book closed on the table making Harry jump at the sudden outburst. "I've already read this one! At this rate, it's going to take us fifty years to find the next Horcrux, not to mention the sword which we have no leads on."

It was Hermione's bad day.

"Okay, come on." Harry stands and holds his hand out to her. She takes it and he pulls her up. "We're going to do something crazy."

"We're already doing something crazy," she grumbles.

"Well, this might take the cake." He starts taking off his sweater and then his shirt.

Hermione's eyes go wide. "Um- Harry… what. are. you. doing?"

Now he's pulling off his shoes. "We," he corrects, "are going to take a little swim."

Her mouth drops open. They've been camped next to another smaller lake for a couple days. It's convenient to wash themselves but they always use a bucket to heat the water inside the tent.

"Are you mad?" she gasps. "It's freezing out there! You could get really, really sick."

"Again, we. You are going with me so you better start stripping," he winks. She actually laughs at that. "And yes, we could get very sick. So it's a good thing we have magic." He is now in only his boxer shorts and Hermione is avoiding her eyes.

"No way, Harry. You're right, this is crazy. I think I'll go back to reading-"

"Come on, Granger." he taunts. "Scared to get a little wet?"

Her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. She's no fool, she heard the innuendo in that statement.

I can't believe I'm actually going to do this.

"Fine. Turn around."

Harry does as he's told and tries to hide his fist pump. After a moment he starts to hear the sound of clothing ruffling and then hitting the ground.

He feels his face flush and his ears burn and throb. When he came up with the idea it was meant to get Hermione out of her head and have a little fun. Not to send his blood rushing south.

No, no, no, no. Mind out of the gutter. Mind out of the gutter.

He shakes out his hands and takes a few deep breaths.

"Don't you dare laugh at me," she says as she steps up beside him with her arms folded across her chest. She kept her bra and camisole on to cover her top but her long, white legs were on display in only a pair of black panties.

Oh, what did I get myself into?

"Wouldn't dream of it," he tells her. "Alright, we run out there and dive in. We have to completely submerge ourselves. Then we run back inside as fast as possible. On three?"

She nods.

"One… two..."

"This is mad," she mutters.

He smiles. "Three!"

. . . .

"How- how d-d-did I let you t-t-t-talk me into that?" Hermione stutters.

They are both shivering from head to toe.

Harry half laughs, half groans. "You could n-n-never turn down a g-g-g-good challenge."

Finally inside the tent they scramble to grab blankets to wrap around themselves. They go to their separate 'rooms' to change into dry clothes and when they finish they jump into action.

Harry gathers all the lamps in a circle while Hermione starts a pot of tea. She also casts a new heating charm on the tent to keep the cold out and they huddle around their small sources of heat.

Now that they are dry and warm again Harry thinks his plan was a success.

Sure, there was a lot of high-pitched screaming from Hermione by the time they touched the water but it was totally worth it.

He bumps her shoulder with his, "Admit it, that was fun."

She squints at him in mock anger, "Okay, fine. Yes, it was fun and exciting but we are never doing that again!"

"Whatever you say, Granger."

"You better watch yourself, Potter. Don't want to end up on my bad side."

He laughs. Maybe it wasn't her bad day after all. Maybe it was their good day.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

. . . . . .

There wasn't always a lake they could spontaneously jump into.

Sometimes Harry felt useless.

Hermione's bad days were becoming more frequent. But he couldn't blame her.

She had been strong for so long. When he and Ron would fight, argue, complain, or give out the silent treatment, Hermione was usually the one who remained steadfast. She would remind them of their place and boost their morale. They would have been so lost without her.

He never realized the toll it must have taken on her until now. But she was losing her confidence in their goal and it was starting to scare him. He kept expecting her to tell him she was finished and leave just like Ron had.

Some days he tried to make things better. And on some of those days when he made an effort to get her to smile she would actually tell him to stop and just let her be sad for a minute.

He was running out of ideas and running out of steam. Of course being out there practically alone was hard enough. But he could only guess what else was bothering her.

Missing Ron. Missing her parents. Missing school and her other friends. Missing the simplicity of just being a student whose biggest worry was homework. Feeling stuck.

He knew because he felt the exact same way.

How much longer can this go on?

. . . . .

A new day, a new place.

It's a day when Hermione's emotions are breaking through her tough exterior. He doesn't even know why she is crying. It could be a for a hundred reasons.

And the last time he asked her about it she blew up on him, screaming that she should be allowed to cry without an interrogation.

So he lets her have a moment to herself and starts on the enchantments.

. . .

Somewhere in the middle of Great Britain, another sunset greets Harry atop a barren, rocky plateau.

The wind whips at his face, stinging his nose and making his eyes water slightly. He's found a strange sense of solace in just pacing 'round in circles, stepping from one rock to another, clearing his thoughts of all the rubbish.

He stops when he hears an odd, unnatural noise. Something vaguely familiar. Static.

Hermione must have found Ron's old radio and turned it on.

By the time he reaches the tent, it's not a missing person's report, not a 'weather report', but a song.

Music.

He sits in a chair by their makeshift kitchen.

Now that is something I haven't heard in a long while.

He tries thinking back to the last time he heard music, besides Hermione's occasional humming, and realizes it was at the wedding. Right before their lives became one not-so-grand adventure.

There was music, laughter, dancing, good food, and people; so many people.

He wishes more than anything they could go back to that night and never leave. They were surrounded by friends and family, they were happy and… safe.

If we can't go back to that night… maybe we can recreate a small piece of it.

Acting on impulse, Harry stands and walks to his companion.

She looks up at him and he holds out a hand, something, he notices, he's been doing quite frequently.

He thinks he finally believes her. They are in this together. Always.

She takes his hand, he pulls her up, then taking the locket from around her neck and tosses the ruddy thing to the bed.

He grabs both her hands in his and leads her to the center of the tent. With his eyes locked on hers, he starts swaying.

The music is quiet and he's not paying enough attention to decipher the words but it is perfect.

He watches Hermione's expression change from reluctant to tolerant; from exasperated to slightly amused; from slightly amused to withheld joy.

She's holding back, so he starts moving his feet and spins her out. When he pulls her back in, there it is. Her smile.

It's working.

It's contagious and now he's sporting a full-toothed grin.

They sway, they turn, they spin, they twirl, they rock back and forth. They smile and laugh.

Harry believes that when this is all over and they look back and remember the crazy journey they went on, the things they had to endure, he won't really think about all the dull and empty days, or the times he wanted to give up, or the anger and regret of being the 'Chosen One'.

He will think about these small moments. When he and Hermione could just escape into their own world and forget everything else.

He'd remember the few he had with Ron as well, but honestly there was more fighting between them than anything else since they'd left the Burrow.

The song is coming to an end and their dancing becomes shuffling in small circles.

He has one arm around her waist, the other holding her hand while he rests his head against her shoulder. His eyes close.

With the little contact they've had with people in the last few months, the smallest touch means something. Being this close to someone, to Hermione, makes his heart swell.

He's not just happy. Happiness can be caused by any small gesture and taken away just as easily. He is content. Contentedness, to him, is harder to achieve and harder to steal.

When they come to a standstill, he lifts his head slightly to look at her.

Her hair is in a messy tie, she wears no makeup, and her nose and cheeks are pink. Possibly from the cold but possibly…

Possibly because she isn't looking in his eyes but rather his lips?

Why am I torturing myself?

He hesitates. Her eyes fall. She pulls away.

Before her hand slips from his, before she can take one step, he pulls her back and does what he's been wanting to since she left him on that cold night in the castle a whole year ago.

Their lips crash together.

She seems shocked at first but he doesn't let that deter him. After a moment he is rewarded with her compliance as she returns the kiss.

It starts slow. Tender, gentle, uncertain, new, exciting, and testing.

He tries to stay conscious enough to not do anything sudden so as to not scare her off. Again.

When it is apparent neither of them is backing out, it turns rough, with eagerness and fervor from them both. Their breathing becomes heavy, hitched with gasps and moans.

He opens his mouth minimally and teases her lips with the tip of his tongue. She opens hers in response and the kiss becomes wet and a little sloppy.

Their teeth clash and he can't stop the smile the breaks through. He feels her lips curve up in a grin as well.

He's barely aware of his hands taking on a mind of their own, exploring her body. Up her arms, down her back, around her front, on her cheeks, and in her hair.

Her arms are just securely locked around his neck, holding him as close as possible.

A year's worth of pent up frustration, unanswered questions, and ignored feelings; it all breaks through.

The kisses slow as they try to regain their breath.

Harry's eyelids feel heavy; like he could never open them again and be just fine kissing Hermione the rest of… forever.

With their foreheads resting against each other, they share the same air. He slowly prys his eyes open and sees her brown ones staring at him.

"Please tell me you're not going to run from me again," he pleads.

She doesn't answer right away and he feels the nerves wracking at his insides.

"I won't," she finally says.

"Promise?" He knows it's selfish. He doesn't care.

"Promise."

His nerves rest.

. . . .

When Harry wakes the next morning, it takes him a moment to remember the events from the night before. Then it all comes rushing back and his stomach jumps into his chest.

He finally kissed Hermione again.

He could never admit, until now, how truly disappointed he had been when she told him that their first kiss last year was a mistake.

After she had promised to not leave him again they laid in silence in his bed. He tried to keep his eyes open but caught himself slipping out of consciousness a couple times.

Guess I didn't shake myself out of the last one cause I don't remember falling asleep.

Then he realizes the next thing that is off.

And I don't remember Hermione leaving either.

He stands up quickly, earning himself a little light-headedness in the process, and looks around for his companion.

She's not inside so he peeks through the tent flaps. There, outside sitting on the rocks, she is hunched over with a book in her lap, unaware of his mild panic attack.

His heart pounds and the 'worst case scenarios' pop into his mind.

She regrets it. Oh, no. She is going to tell me it was another mistake and tell me to forget about it again and this time I won't be able to. Not that I really forgot about the first time but… this is different.

The problem is that he doesn't know how to discern what, exactly, is different. He goes back to his cot, puts his head in his hands and tries to think rationally.

But all it does is give him a headache. The truth is if he wants to know what she's thinking, he has to ask her.

For now, however, he's going to put it off in case whatever she has to say is not what he wants to hear. For now, he will pretend like everything's okay.

. . .

He is lying back in his bed with the snitch hovering above him as he contemplates the events of the night before and what is to happen next.

He tries distracting his errant thoughts of remembering the taste of Hermione with questions of what could be inside the snitch.

Maybe it was a clue that Dumbledore left for him. A letter or a form of directions for finding all the Horcruxes. Maybe Dumbledore didn't leave them to wander in blindly in the dark. Maybe all the answers were inside the snitch and he just had to figure out how to open it.

Maybe Hermione is just keeping watch and didn't want to wake me. She's always concerned about the rest I'm getting due to my nightmares.

Didn't have nightmares last night though, did I? We should've started snogging every night a long time ago.

Images of the night before play in his mind.

The dancing.

Watching her smile break through.

Hearing her laugh at their own ridiculousness.

The warmth inside of him from just being there with her.

The chill of almost letting her get away for a second time.

The spark of their lips reuniting.

Merlin, that kiss.

No, no. Focus.

Harry goes back and forth between day-dreaming of the kiss and then shaking himself out of his reverie to think about anything else when suddenly…

… his thoughts collide.

He takes hold of the snitch, the fluttering wings wrapping around the ball, and holds it close to his mouth.

I open at the close

A rush of excitement floods through him, "Hermione," he calls.

He forgets the anticipation of facing her for the first time since the night before and runs outside.

"Hermione. You were right. Snitches have flesh memories. But I didn't catch the first snitch with my hand, I almost swallowed it."

He hands the golden ball to her and sits on the rock across from her.

"'I open at the close'," she reads.

"Yeah, what d'you think that means?"

She looks at him. She's looking at him strangely, he knows it.

"I don't know. I found something too," she gestures to her book so he moves to sit next to her. "At first I thought it was an eye but now I don't think it is. It isn't a Rune. And it isn't anywhere in Spellman's Syllabary. Somebody inked it in. It isn't part of the book, somebody drew it."

Harry recognizes it after a moment, "Luna's dad was wearing that at Bill and Fleur's wedding."

"Why would someone draw it in a children's book?

"Hermione, I've been thinking... I want to go to Godric's Hollow. I mean it's where I was born, it's where my parents died," he knows he has to bring out the big guns to convince her that this is a good idea.

"That's exactly where he'll expect you to go because it means something to you." She stands up and gathers her books and her blanket.

"Yeah, but it means something to him too, Hermione. You-Know-Who almost died there. Isn't that exactly the type of place he'd be likely to hide a Horcrux?

"It- it's dangerous, Harry," He nods at her feeble attempt to dissuade him. She sighs, "But even I have to admit, recently I've been thinking we'll have to go there," Behind her Harry double fist pumps. "I think it's possible something else is hidden there."

"What?"

She glances at him, "The Sword. If Dumbledore wanted you to find it, but didn't want it falling into the Ministry's hands, what better place to hide it than the birthplace of the founder of Gryffindor?

They've almost reached the tent when she stops. It's then his thoughts turn to last night again.

'She is definitely looking at me differently. Is she going to bring it up? Or does she expect me to?

"Hermione…" he says hesitantly.

She reaches up and rubs the bangs resting on his forehead, "Don't ever let me give you a haircut again."

He smiles and nods.

'Maybe she doesn't regret it…'

Warmth floods him at the thought and he follows her inside.

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

Hermione goes about making a pot of tea and rummaging through their food supplies.

Harry feels like the walls of the burlap are closing in, making the elephant in the room appear larger and larger.

The silence, not that Hermione was being quiet about her task but rather the lack of speaking, was driving him mad.

His breath felt short, his hands sweaty, and if he made any sudden movement, he was sure she would snap out of her calm state and start yelling at him, accusing him of taking advantage of her.

The kettle whistles and Hermione pours them two cups of tea. They sit at the table with their food as the tension grows thicker and thicker.

. . . .

He couldn't do it anymore. He'd been silent all day, waiting for her to drop the bomb on him and yet too nervous to bring it up himself. But he couldn't do it anymore.

"Hermione, we have to talk about this."

She puts down her book and sighs, "I know," like she'd been expecting it.

Harry's nerves are quickly turning into frustration, "I don't understand what's happening between us… but I don't want to ignore it, or pretend that it's not happening, or forget about it, or anything we've been doing for the past year because it obviously didn't work."

In a soft voice, "I agree."

"So…?"

She stands from the table and he mimics her, ready get the truth out there.

She raises her voice now, "I don't know what you want me to say, Harry."

"Well, let's start from the beginning. Because the last time this happened, I tried talking to you about it and you pushed me away."

She holds a finger up at him, "Last time was-"

"What, a mistake? Yeah, you made that perfectly clear."

"No! I mean, yes. But not because of you. It's complicated."

He scoffs, getting angry now. "Isn't it always?"

"Look, I was in no position to be involved with anyone last year! You know better than most what a wreck I was. All because…" she trails off for a second. "Because right when I thought Ron and I were on the same page, he goes and gets himself his first real girlfriend and it wasn't me. That completely shattered me."

"I know, I was there." He sighs. "Well, he hasn't been with anyone else for a long time. If you want to be with him so badly, why didn't you leave with him when you had the chance?"

"It wasn't about him. I stayed because it was the right thing to do. I'd be lying if I said I didn't still care about him and sometimes wish that we could work things out. But I can't be with Ron. Not anymore. Not after he hurt me so badly. I felt tossed aside and forgotten."

"Yeah, well. I know the feeling," he says pointedly.

"I did what I did for both of us," she goes back on the defense, "Don't tell me that you've forgotten about the other Weasley in this equation. What about Ginny?"

He opens his mouth ready to fire back a retort when he realizes he's not sure what to say. He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with her and himself. "I don't know. I genuinely cared about her, I still do. But- I don't know. Things changed- after that night I mean. Being with her felt… dishonest."

"Why?"

He knows that she has no idea of the weight behind her question and considers telling her to forget the whole thing. But he's been keeping it to himself for so long that the words are rushing to the forefront of his mind and are about to roll of his tongue of their own accord and oh, damn it all.

"Because as much as I tried to forget about what happened between us - bloody hell, I tried - it just didn't go away. Last year, last night; we crossed a line and we- well I can never go back from that. Even with everything that happened last year, and that incredibly long summer I couldn't keep you out of my head. I constantly think about you, worry if you're okay, and I can't believe you're still here despite all the reasons you could leave."

He finishes his rant and almost can't believe what he just confessed to.

Hermione is silent. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her forehead is creased in what is either shock, concern, disbelief or all of the above and he can't determine if any of those are good.

He rips at his hair again, "Oh Merlin, you're not saying anything. Please, just Avada me right now.

She ignores his remark and starts slowly walking towards him, "You're right. Everything has changed. And yes, I could make up a number of reasons to leave. But I only need one reason to stay. You pretty much made it impossible to keep the promise I made myself. I didn't mean for it to happen but it did anyway."

He is very confused at this point, "What happened?"

She shrugs, as if it's obvious, and says, "I caved."

She's getting closer and closer. "I don't understand."

Her head shakes, "Me neither."

And then she kisses him.


AN:

Of course a round of apologies for the wait.

Goodness, this chapter was hard to write. I think I went through the last few pages and changed the last scene a bazillion times. There could have been so many different reactions but I chose to go with this one in hopes to reveal one of the inspirations for the title.

So feel free to express your opinions in the form of reviews!

Actually, it would really help me discern what direction you guys think this is going in. This was a big chapter for Harry and Hermione just like the last one was big for Ron.

I'm going to continue to take some liberties with details of the canon to fit these situations. And I'd love some feedback.

I promise the next chapter won't take as long to post, especially if I get some good responses!

Until next time…

*Sunshine*